


Mesa Luv Yous, Kylo Ren (I Love You, Kylo Ren)

by savingholmes



Category: Star Wars, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), The Force Awakens - Fandom
Genre: ? - Freeform, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Crack, Daddy Issues, Daddy Kink, Emo, Fluff, Grandpa Kink, Jylo Kinks, M/M, Smut, Smut/fluff to come, Very Serious Fanfic, its not easy writing that shit about jar jar binks ok
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-30
Updated: 2016-01-24
Packaged: 2018-05-10 09:39:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 7,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5580643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/savingholmes/pseuds/savingholmes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There has been an awakening...<br/><br/>Ben Solo is a misunderstood sixteen year-old Padawan with a penchant for eyeliner and the early works of Fall Out Boy; Jar Jar Binks is a tall, dark, and handsome foreign traveler on a journey of self-discovery.<br/>On his way to training with his uncle Luke Skywalker, young Ben encounters the exotic stranger, who asks for directions. Their shy eyes meet, and electricity immediately fills the air. At that moment, both lonely hearts knew the other had something they had been looking for all their lives: lips to call home.<br/>But things are not so simple.<br/>Between a jealous best friend, stubborn parents, sides of the Force, and Ben's unconventional desires, the pair is "torn apart" by fate. Jar Jar tries to convince Ben to run away with him, but is his seduction stronger than that of the Dark Side?<br/>What will Ben choose, love or to belong?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Stranger but Not Danger

Ben Solo sits in his shower, his knees tightly hugged to his chin, the lukewarm water pitter-pattering softly on his freshly dyed fringe. It makes his eyeliner run, but it doesn't even matter anymore. Nothing does. There's nothing in this galaxy for Ben Solo, and his parents have become less and less understanding. Over the years, he sees their gaze growing more and more disappointed, and he can't help but feel increasingly unwelcome in his family of heroes. They expect him to ache to do good, but he just doesn't. Quite frankly, he really doesn't give a shit about most things, emphasis on 'most'. Besides, there is plenty more for Ben to worry about apart from being like his relatives, like loudly whining about his emotions and trying to get a job at HotTopic, for example. 

Sniffing sorely, Ben wipes the moisture from his eyes before craning his neck upward. There, shittily fitted by his best friend Hux, water spouts regally from his Darth Vader shower head. Ben looks at the fitting with admiration, and feels immediately empowered. He is reminded of his grandfather's legacy and can-do attitude, and is instantly motivated. As it pours from plastic Vader's eye sockets, Ben pretends the water is his tears, and lets its darkness wash over his soft, shitty body.

From outside the shower box, Ben hears the end of  _Sugar, We're Goin Down_ by Fall Out Boy and reluctantly turns off the tap. He salutes farewell to his grandfather. Fresh tears streaming down his face, Ben forces himself to look at his own make-upless face in the mirror and clips back his wet raven hair. He dries his pale limbs and torso with his HotTopic Vader towel, and then dons apparel in preparation for training. The colour of the uniform disgusts Ben, who would much rather dress himself in the inky colours of the Dark Side. So much so, he once tried to colour his in with a Sharpie. Needless to say, his idiot parents weren't too happy. Ugh. They don't, and never will, get it.

Speak of the Devil, Ben's mother's voice calls from downstairs. "Ben, sweetie, you're running late." Instead of replying, Ben rolls his eyes and mutters to himself about how much he hates his parents. He dreads training, where some noob is probably going to freak out about his being the son of ~~Leia Organa~~ and *:・ﾟ✧Han Solo*:・ﾟ✧, and moves as slowly as possible. He gathers some photos of Darth Vader and Patrick Stump, and carefully places them in his rucksack. Once again, he hears his mother's voice, and notices that she is now angry. Sighing loudly, Ben realises he has pushed his mother too far and picks up the pace. He hastily kisses the vintage Vader helmet, which he bought on eBay, on his bedside table before running to the stairs. As he descends down the staircase, he grumbles loudly in distaste. 

"Why do I need to do this?" He asks his mother, despair dripping from his prepubescent, late-bloomer voice. 

She hands him his lunch in a brown paper bag, the look she has when she says wise Jedi shit on her face. Ben tunes out before his mother has even begun speaking. He waits for what seems like eternity before she finishes. "That's why," Leia replies, lovingly ruffling Ben's hair. 

"Sure," Ben murmurs, bitterly fixing his now-fucked up fringe. He opens his lunch bag, and is disappointed to see no trace of the Vader sushi roll he had requested. Typical. It's alright though, he'll just share Hux's food when he reads  _Mein Kampf_ to Ben after school. He leaves the bag on the kitchen counter and rushes to meet his lame Jedi friends who don't truly understand. 

As the heavy front door force-slams loudly, Ben spots a stranger on the opposite side of the road; he's so tall, and handsome as hell. Ben stands motionless and completely overwhelmed, his jaw gaping. As if he could sense his lauding eyes, the stranger turns in Ben's direction, a shy and secretive smile teasing at his full lips. Immediately, Ben is in love. He had been questioning his sexuality ever since that uninvited wet dream about Harry Styles, but now he knows for sure. Just as he begins to wonder when he would see this dashing Gungan again, the foreigner starts to make his way across the street. Each long stride he takes closes the gap between their sexual tension, and Ben can feel his blood rush through his misunderstood veins in an exhilarating thud-thud.  

Up close, the stranger is even more handsome. His lips are luscious and plump, his eyes round yet sultry. He has the physique Ben can only dream about having ( _not_ Harry Styles): his arms are powerful, and his legs are slender yet toned. The more he thinks about this beautiful stranger, the harder Ben's dead, black heart beats. For once in his lifetime, Ben sees, in front of him,  _in the **fucking** flesh_ , the one person he knew he would want to spend the rest of his life with.

But who is this ravishing visitor?


	2. Heyo Dalee!

The stranger stands close, his sinful eyes exposing every inch of Ben's body. He had fantasized about moments like these, and craves nothing more than for the foreigner to wrap those muscled arms around his tender emo skin. He can smell the stranger's soft, mildewy scent, and it smells like heaven, like a musk so sensuous yet domineering. 

"Heyo dalee," the Gungan traveler says in a husky and wonderfully nuanced voice, his expressive eyes searching Ben's own. 

"H-hey," Ben replies, feeling a warm burn tugging at his cheeks, neck, and decolletage. He hurries to cover the crimson with his long, dark hair. 

"Yousa see, mesa lost." The stranger chuckles sheepishly. Ben sees crinkles around his eyes, and thinks to himself that this wanderer was not only sexy, but adorable. 

"I can help you," Ben says with a small smile. He hasn't smiled in forever, but the stranger makes him feel a kind of ease and tranquility he thought was only a myth.

The traveler reciprocates with a wide, toothy grin. "Do yousa know which way disa town is?" He asks, pointing at a red pin on his iPhone interface. 

"Michigan?" Ben questions, his brows furrowed. What is this mysterious creature doing, going to  _Michigan_?

"Ah, yesa... Michigan," the stranger responds. "Mesa cannot get dalee because Apple Maps is nosa good."

Ben tries to hide his eye roll and sigh. Of course. This is the suave pilgrim's Achilles' heel. _Who the fuck uses Apple Maps? Has he even updated to the latest iOS?_

But Ben quickly dismisses it. Today may be his only shot of finding true love, and he isn't about to let it all go over some petty iDispute. He pulls his own mobile device out from within his shitty Padawan uniform: a sleek Samsung Galaxy S6 Edge+ in Green Emerald, the closest colour to black they offer. He pulls up the Google Maps app and inputs the locations before taking a screenshot of the route. "What's your phone number?" He asks, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible, for they both knew it was a double edged sword to get the stranger's phone number. 

The stranger replies as Ben carefully watches his irresistible lips form those delicious numbers. Upon sending the map, the Gungan's phone chimes a crisp text tone, and gives the traveler a scare. His breath catches in his throat for a short moment before his could-cut-glass cheekbones flooded deep pink. "Ex squeezee me," he giggles, glancing at the lit-up display of his gadget. "Tank yu, how will mesa ever repay yousa?"

Ben shyly looks down at his feet, clad in checkered slip-on Vans. The warm burn becomes a roaring fire, one that is fed only by the stranger's deep, gentle voice, one that Ben does not want to stop burning, for the embers would only dissolve with his tears. "You don't need to repay me. But you _can_  tell me your name."

The nomad reveals his timeworn teeth in a cool but cordial smile. With a wink, he tells Ben: "Mesa name is Binks... Jar Jar Binks."

 

 


	3. Swift, Taylor. 'You Are In Love.'

_Jar Jar Binks. Jar Jar Binks. Jar Jar. Binks. Binks. Jar Jar. J a r  J a r  B i n k s._

A million thoughts run through Ben's head, and it feels as if he has been punched in the stomach, but in the best way possible. His can hear the blood rush in his ears in a urgent scramble, each pulse stronger than the last, like a thunderstorm of emotion: the good kind. He has never felt it before, but he immediately knows. He is in love. 

"I'm Ben Solo," he tells Jar Jar, raising his bashful eyes, "but call me Kylo."

"Isa nice to meet yousa," Jar Jar says as he extends his hand, "Kylo."

To Ben, finally hearing someone say his name, his _real_  name, is all that matters. It's like, with those four letters and two vowels, this rugged traveler has fixed all that is so, so wrong with the galaxy. Maybe, just maybe, Ben can at last feel comfortable in his own pasty skin. The stranger is no longer a stranger, and living no longer a chore. Ben knows that this is the kind of resolve they speak of in those soppy romantic films he likes to watch on his own before crying himself to sleep every night, the assurance that everything is going to be all right, the feeling of finding the answer to...  _being_.

"It was nice meeting you, too."

Jar Jar smiles and ducks his head, a sheepishness taking over his smoldering features. "Mesa better get goen," he says. "Tank yu, again."

"You're welcome." Ben does not want to let him go, but knows he needs to. If you love something, set it free. If you love someone, set them free.

There is a moment of absolute silence, so quiet that not even the birds dare speak, and the two pairs of eyes meet for what may be the last time. Ben's knees are weak with longing, resisting the intruding thought of a missed opportunity: the years he and Jar Jar could spend together, with each another, instead of apart. He knows he should just leave it here, but can't help but acknowledge that nagging, nagging, nagging reminder that, all his life, he has never truly done anything for himself. 

Standing on the sidewalk in front of his house, Ben Solo holds the fates of two lives in the palm of his cold, clammy hand. The decision he makes is not something he can take back, but if he makes the right one, a decision that doesn't  _need_ to be taken back. 

He takes a small step closer, his breathing shallow, a lightness in his head he had only experienced from dehydration that time he saw Fall Out Boy in hologram. He searches Jar Jar's soulful eyes, and lets the world around them slowly, but surely, melt away like a Salvador Dali.

Then, suddenly, softly, quietly, Ben falls into Jar Jar's lips. The Gungan resists at first, but for only a little while. He gives in, and the walls and forts and shields Ben had put up throughout the last sixteen years crumble all at once. They devastate with the same trust and ease as their creator, and perish with an admirable grace and poise. 

Ben Solo is invincible. 


	4. Kiss and Tell

After a perfect eternity, Ben and Jar Jar reluctantly pull apart, the taste of one another's lips on their own like summer lemonade. Ben had never felt so many butterflies inside of him, not even when he had heard his first Darth Vader story. He knows that this is the beginning of a new chapter of his life: a fulfilling and  _loving_ chapter.

Although their titillating kiss has come to an end, the Gungan's strong and powerful arms hold Ben close. Ben inhales every one of Jar Jar's exhales, and thinks that they could just be like this forever, drifting in space with nothing but each other and the air between them (if you completely disregard the laws of physics). 

"Don't go," Ben whispers.

"Mesa must," Jar Jar replies. "Mesa people need mesa."

Ben pushes Jar Jar away, his eyes low and his arms now wrapped around himself. " _I_ need you."

"Mesa will come back for yousa," Jar Jar places an amphibious hand on Ben's arm. " _Mesa promise._ "

Ben lifts his head and desperately looks into the Gungan's kind eyes. "Are you telling the truth? Will you really come back for me?"

Jar Jar nods, pulling Ben into his sculpted chest. "Mesa will come back for yousa if it's the last thing mesa do."

"Thank you," Ben says, a tear or twenty gliding down his deathly white cheek. "No one's ever said that to me before."

"Yousa will see mesa again," Jar Jar reassures Ben, stroking the back of his black-haired head like a messed up, Gerard Way-loving egg. "But for now, mesa must gos."

All of a sudden, Ben breaks down into even more tears, his shoulders heaving as he sobs into the Gungan's pectorals. He doesn't know why he is crying. Maybe it's because he's sad (but he's sad all the time), maybe because he's happy (which he thought would be good before he kissed Jar Jar but in retrospect is damaging to his emo aesthetic which makes him sad which balances it out but that makes him happy and it's just a fucking paradox), maybe he's just damn glad he's finally got somebody to love. Either way, Ben blubbers with hiccups and jagged breaths and a running nose, but it's all so beautiful. 

"Okay," Ben says after he finally composes himself. "Be careful. I'll be here waiting for you, my love."

"Selongabye," Jar Jar says softly, kissing Ben's forehead.

"Selongabye."

* * *

 

Trying not at all to hide the fact that he had just been crying (because it's emo), Ben Solo meets his loser Padawan 'friends'.

"Where have you been?!" The stupid one with the purple hair, Pam, asks. Honestly, her voice is so fucking annoying. Ben has known her for the good half of ten years, and he swears her voice has just gotten higher and higher with time.

"Nowhere," Ben dismisses her. 

"We've waiting for, like,  _twenty minutes_!" Marnie, the really sporty and blonde one screams. "Now we're, like, really, like,  _really_ late!"

" _I'm_ sorry," Ben retorts.

"Yeah, what the fuck man," Donald says, fixing his bright green toupee, "I was gonna get there early to hit on Rachael, you fucking cock-block."

"What the fuck?" Marnie screams even louder. "I thought, like, we were, like, dating, Donny!"

"My condolences, guys," Ben says calmly.

"Ugh!" Marnie screams really fucking loudly, "Why are you, like, being such a  _bitch_ , Ben?!"

"Ugh!" Ben imitates Marnie. "Why are you  _not shutting the fuck up?!_ "

As soon as Ben says that, Donald gives his shoulders a firm shove. With his new-found strength, Ben does not back away like he usually would. Instead, he plants his Vans-ed feet into the ground and force-chokes that toupeed son of a bitch. The others watch, their jaws hitting the floor, scared, and with no clue what the fuck to do. But Ben, he feels off their fear, feeling himself grow more powerful. He has wanted to do this for the longest time, not because Donald is a total lad (well, not completely), but because the academy let him have his bright green hair while rejecting Ben's misunderstood navy blue in Year 4 purely because Donald is fucking loaded. 

However, the thrill of the moment passes and Ben lets Donald go by dropping him to the ground. He lays there, gulping air and coughing his lungs out, Pam and Marnie gathered around him, Marnie offering to perform CPR although Pam is obviously the one who is actually qualified having taken a first-aid course last semester.

"You, like, hurt him, you monster!" Marnie screeches.

"You're gonna fucking pay!" Pam follows.

Ben shrugs. "Maybe."

"Look at him," Ebony Dark'ness Dementia Raven Way, the girl Ben once had a brief crush on, remarks in a flat, dead voice, "he doesn't give a shit."

"Thanks," Ben says.

"Yeah," Ebony replies.

So off they go, Ben and his crappy Padawan 'friends', for a boring-ass day at school.

* * *

 

After school, Ben spots Hux (BFF) at the school gates. He stands straight as a pin, his head bowed as he tries to read  _Mein Kampf_  in the bustling crowd of kids being picked up.

"Hux," Ben calls.

Hux raises his head, and nods, blushing, as he spots his BFF. He tucks his book in the back of his thick belt and begins to walk, strict and military, toward Ben. 

"Hello, Kylo," Hux says in greeting. 

Oh, yeah, Hux also calls him Kylo. But Ben doesn't give a shit. Hux is his best friend, but only because everyone else is grossly intolerable. So yeah.

"Hi," he replies as the pair begins to walk together.

"How was your day, Kylo?" Hux asks.

"It was okay. How was yours?"

The other boy ignores Ben's question. "Only okay, Kylo?"

Ben hesitates. "Uh... yeah?"

Hux leans closer, his pretentious, puffy shoulder pads almost touching Ben's own slouching shoulders. "Are you sure, Kylo?"

"I'm sure," Ben answers, a little annoyed on the outside, a fucking lot annoyed on the inside. Why the shit does Hux keep saying 'Kylo'? Ben likes it when people call him Kylo, but this is just completely unnecessary, and, honestly, quite disturbing.

"Why do I feel like you're lying to me, Kylo?" Hux raises a single ginger eyebrow. 

"Fuck, Hux, I'm not," Ben says, exasperated. "Why would I lie to you? You're my only frien-"

"Because I saw you, Kylo," Hux sing-songs, a sly smile on his dumb-ass face. "This morning."

The same rush of blood from earlier today revisits Ben's ears, the same thud-thud. But only, this time, instead of an intoxicating rhythm, it sounds of erratic and violent knocks on a rotten wooden door. "What did you see?" He demands.

"Nothing..."

A sigh of relief takes over him internally.

"...much."

"You- you fucking-"

"Oh, relax," Hux teases. "I only saw you kiss a _Gungan_  who looks three times your age. It's no big deal."

Panicked, Ben tries to force-wipe Hux's memory. "You're not strong enough," he cackles.  _Fuck._ Ben thought maybe he had improved since the last time he tried this, when Hux had caught him putting a toothbrush up his asshole while reading a steamy fanfiction set in an AU where Darth Vader still had his genitals and was hate-fucking his past self. But obviously not.

"Remember that time I said I liked you?" Hux recalls, 'douchebag' written across his entire douchebag face, that fucking douchebag.

Ben swallows loudly and nods.

"And remember how you told me you weren't into guys?" Hux continues, his voice raising.

Again, Ben swallows loudly and nods.  _Shit._

"I'm fucking perfect," Hux shouts, "I'm smart, I'm more than good-looking, and I have a  _great_ personality, and you had to go choose that  _disgusting, **damp**_ _, GUNGAN?_ "

"I'm sorry, Hux," Ben says quietly.

" _NO!_ " Hux cries. "No."

The ginger-haired boy takes a deep breath.

" _I'm_ sorry." He apologises. "I was out of line. It won't happen again."

"Good," Ben replies. 

Awkwardly, the pair shuffles onward to froyo.

* * *

 

Ben wakes up, the sun glowing kindly through his dollar store black-out curtains. Grumpily, he snaps the shitty curtains closed before clumsily falling back onto his bed. Habitually, he unlocks his Samsung Galaxy S6 Edge+, a blurry Jar Jar Binks creep-shot its background, and checks the Facebook app. His eyes are lazy yet judgmental as he scrolls down his feed of pictures from a Padawan U18 party he had been invited to but decided not to go to. He is still thinking about Amanda Kenobi's trashy neon-yellow construction shirt DIY fishnets when his thumb stops on a post and he bolts up at the speed of light.

Wincing at the abdominal pain from the sudden movement, he begins to shake. Not even thinking about Darth Vader can calm him down. He doesn't believe his eyes. 

How could he do this?


	5. Report His Post and Hope To Die

KYLO REN [7:25:23AM]: HUX

KYLO REN [7:25:25AM]: HUX

KYLO REN [7:25:26AM]: HUX

KYLO REN [7:25:27AM]: HUX

KYLO REN [7:25:33AM]: HUX!!!

HUX HITLER [7:25:34AM]: What? 

KYLO REN [7:25:40AM]: yea haha i think u kno what

HUX HITLER [7:25:44AM]: No?

KYLO REN [7:25:53AM]: image.jpg

KYLO REN [7:25:58AM]: i thought i went without sayin that u wouldnt do this shit?????!!!

HUX HITLER [7:26:01AM]: Oh, yeah, that.

KYLO REN [7:26:11AM]: honeslty what the fuck hux/?!?! 

HUX HITLER [7:26:16AM]: My hand slipped. Oops.

KYLO REN [7:26:22AM]: jesus fucking christ hux i thought u were my friend

KYLO REN [7:26:25AM]: i thought i coudl trust u

KYLO REN [7:26:29AM]: this whole world is just full offucking traiters

HUX HITLER [7:26:32AM]: *traitors

KYLO REN [7:26:35AM]: really hux?? fucking really??

HUX HITLER [7:26:45AM]: Oh, I'm sorry, BEN. Are you going to go cry to grandpapa?

KYLO REN [7:26:53AM]: fukc u!! dont u DARE bring darth vader into this i fcuking swear to gotd

HUX HITLER [7:26:55AM]: Ha! Okay.

KYLO REN [7:27:00AM]: its already bad enough half the fucking planet now knows im gay

KYLO REN [7:27:06AM]: and in love w a fucking gungan

KYLO REN [7:27:11AM]: thanx a ton hux

KYLO REN [7:27:13AM]: rot in hell 

* * *

 

Ben doesn't want to go to school. All he wants to do is to sit in his shower and cry. He quickly reports the post before breaking down into his dark grey duvet. He hears his mother's voice calling his name from downstairs, but his given name feels foreign in his own ears.  _This is not who I am,_ he thinks,  _I can't let Hux get to me._ He lifts his head to gaze at his grandfather's helmet, full of glorious darkness and power, on his bedside table. While he is still weak, he feels empowered, like when he watched a Beyonce video for the first time when he was seven.

With Darth Vader's image in the back of his mind, Ben drags himself out of his pool of pathetic self-pity and stands in front of his full length mirror. He stares at his flimsy spaghetti body, clad in silky-smooth black satin PJs, and imagines himself in his grandfather's heavy yet glamorous get-up.  _One day._ Or, rather, as soon as he gets his own credit card so he can order a Darth Vader cosplay costume off of the internet. 

All of a sudden, standing there, picturing himself in Darth Vader's clothes, Ben has an epiphany. He realises now that Hux has already revealed his second deepest, darkest secret, he is invincible. Well, almost. But nobody knows about his  _darkest_ secret (he had considered telling Hux about it just a week ago but is now grateful that he didn't and probably never will). He has almost nothing to lose. 

Getting dressed, Ben does not don his usual Padawan uniform. Instead, he decorates himself with a black robe. Underneath, he wears the only black top he owns that isn't a T-shirt: a stiff cotton shirt with a red logo of a fish on the left breast, part of a uniform from his old job at a sushi chain before he got fired for repeatedly insulting the customers and excusing himself to break down in the walk-in refrigerator at up to three hours at a time. The shirt is complemented by a pair of black pleated trousers Hux left when he came for a sleepover one time (he threw up on them after being play-force-choked too hard by Ben and forgot to take them home), which are tucked into a pair of knee-high leather boots Ben stole from his mother and dyed black. 

As he goes down the stairs, Ben realises that it is the first time he has held a proper posture since the summer he turned emo (i.e. the summer he found his true identity,  _Mom_.). His cape is too long and makes him feel like he is going to fall back at any second, but he ignores it. The overwhelming feeling of authority takes over his mind, his body, his spirit.  _This is what Grampa must've felt like,_ he thinks. 

But his thoughts are abruptly interrupted by his mother's voice. "What in the galaxy are you wearing?!" She exclaims. Ben stops dead in his tracks, his heart bouncing in his chest and his cheeks and ears feverish. For some reason, he can't help but feel at least a little bit embarrassed in front of his mother. He dares not move, not even his eyes, not even to blink. His eyeballs are burning. They're so dry. They're probably going to fall out. The damage is going to be irreversible, he knows it. He Is screaming on the inside. And peeing a little on the outside.  _This is what Grampa must've felt like,_ he thinks again.

He and his mother stand there, staring at each other, tears streaming down Ben's face from his dry eyes for a solid minute until his father walks into the living room. He is lethargically grumbling about the household's lack of coffee creamer and trying not to convulse as he forces himself to down his creamer-less bean juice. When he realises the situation, his eyebrows raise and suddenly all trace of tiredness is gone. 

"What's going on?" He looks to Leia, and then to Ben, and then back to Leia. 

His mother breaks eye contact, and responds. "Look what he's wearing." 

Finally, Ben can blink. He has never been so thankful of his father's existence. His eyes return to their moist glory in an ecstatic lowering of the eyelids. 

Han Solo stands before Ben, one hand holding the mug Chewbacca made for him for his birthday last year, one hand resting judgmentally on his hip. "Ben?"

"This is who I am," Ben replies quietly, glowering. 

"Well, 'who you are' looks a lot like  _somebody_ ," his father remarks, turning his head to his mother. "What did I tell you? I knew we shouldn't have let him into that shop that time."

"You agreed to it, Han," Leia retorts, accusingly jabbing a finger in his direction. "And I thought there was nothing wrong with letting him express himself!"

"Express himself, my ass," Han smirks. "He's turning into your father!"

"Do not bring my father into this." Her jaw is clenched.

"Our son-" Han says, stepping toward his wife, "-is turning-" he steps closer "-into-" closer "-your-" closest "father."

"You don't want to do this," Leia sings through gritted teeth.

"You know I'm right," Han replies smugly. 

Without diverting her eyes from his father, Leia tells Ben to go, and that his lunch is on the counter. 

Ben goes, grabbing his lunch off the counter.


	6. They Call Me 'Ben', They Call Me 'Emo', They Call Me 'Him', They Call Me 'John', That's Not My Name

Ben decides he doesn't want to walk with his usual crowd. Instead, he texts Ebony to go without him and takes the long way. It's not even close to noon but it's getting warm already, and Ben feels it from underneath his layers of heat-absorbing black. The sun shyly peeks from above tall-ass trees and casts elongated shadows of pebbles on the ground. Ben ponders about life, and the meaning of identity, and what his identity is. Identitty. Anime tiddies. Ahem. He thinks about his parents' lack of understanding and tries not to cry because otherwise his eyeliner would streak and streaked eyeliner doesn't last the whole day. But he decides, fuck it, and lets the tears fall silently from his eyes. 

Suddenly, Ben hears the rustling of bushes and leaves. He spots a dark figure struggling to break free. Ben stands there, watching, motionless, suppressing the urge to help. Finally, after a good minute or so, the figure breaks free. It's Ebony.

"It looks really odd when you cry like that," she says, brushing crunchy leaves off her tights. "Normally people actually  _cry_ instead of just keeping a straight face and letting their tears come out of their eyes."

"Yeah, well," Ben clears his throat, "you look really odd when you exist like that."

Ebony is quiet for a second. "Good burn," she admits.

"Thanks," Ben replies. "What are you doing?"

"I had enough of _them_ ," she tells him. "and I figured you would take this route."

"Yeah, me too," he says. "The part about about having enough of them."

"I know."

Ebony leads and the two Padawan resume walking. For a moment, there is silence. But then both try to speak at the same time.

"You go first," she says.

"No, it's okay, you go."

"No, you go."

"For god's sake, Ebony, just go."

"Okay." She takes a deep breath before stopping and turning to Ben. "I really like you, I really do."

"Okay..." Ben replies hesitantly. "That sounds fake but okay."

"You and I," Ebony continues, "we're different. But we're the  _same_ different, you know what I mean?"

"Yeah, kinda."

"What I'm trying to say is..."

"Is what?"

"Will you go out with me, Ben Solo?"

Ben Solo. Ben. Solo. B e n  S o l o. Son of Han Solo. Child of Leia Organa. Nephew of Luke Skywalker. Ben Solo. Ben Solo. Ben Solo. What the fuck. Ben Solo. Ben SOLO. The Ben of the Solo family. The Ben especially born to the Solo family. The Solo family's Ben.

In a storm of startling rage, Ben roars (or at least what he thinks is roaring, which is basically just a louder-than-usual pitifully whiny wheeze): " _THAT'S NOT MY **FUCKING** NAME._ "

Ebony is taken aback. "Wow, okay. You don't like me then."

" _MY NAME IS **KYLO REN**._ "

"You know you can just tell me you don't like me, right?"

" _I AM NOT ~BEN SOLO~. BEN SOLO IS DEAD. I AM **KYLO REN**_."

"Yeah, I got that the first time."

" _GOOD. **FEAR ME.**_ " He snarls, but it just looks likes he's frozen mid-sneeze and trying to get corn out of his teeth at the same time.

"No thanks," Ebony says. "I'm gonna go."

" _COWARD!_ "

"Uh... yepokayseeyouatschoolbye."

                                                            ( _Exit_ EBONY.)

* * *

 

Ben, excuse me,  _Kylo_ doesn't see Ebony at school. In fact, he doesn't see anyone at school. Because he isn't at school. 

After Ebony rather gracefully exited, Ben -ahem-  _Kylo_ cried even more. He thought his parents weren't understanding, but it turns out his peers aren't either, especially since Ebony, who is the closest thing Kylo has to an exact replica of himself, wouldn't even accept him. He pulled out his Samsung Galaxy S6 Edge+ and called Jar Jar. He didn't pick up. So Kylo called him again. No pick up. On the third try, the Gungan answered his fucking phone.

"Heyo dalee!" He chirped.

"Jar Jar," Kylo sniffed, "it's me, Kylo."

"Yesa, mesa know. Mesa have yousa name in mesa contacts," he explained.

"Can you come meet me?" Kylo asked, hopeful. "I really need you."

The Gungan pauses for a moment. "Okeeday," he replied eventually. 

"Great," Kylo said, mustering a smile. "Meet me at the Starbucks near my house, okay?"

"Okeeday, but mesa goen to take a while. Can yousa wait?"

"Yeah," Kylo nodded although he knew his lover could not see. 

"Mesa will be dalee as soon as mesa can."

"Thank you."

Twenty-six minutes later, Kylo waits in a booth, his hands wrapped around a Venti cup of hot chocolate he pretends is black coffee.

 


	7. I Have Died Everyday Waiting For You

Kylo glances at the clock on the wall. It's been almost forty minutes. Maybe Jar Jar isn't coming. But Kylo is hopeful.  _He's just slow on the go,_ Kylo tells himself.  _Slow on the go. Yeaaahhhh._

As he watches the seconds tick by loudly, Kylo grows anxious, and more and more so. What if Jar Jar's gotten into trouble? Shit. What if he saw Hux's post? What if Hux captured him? Fuck.  _F u c k._

Suddenly, a man's smooth voice interrupts Kylo's thoughts. His voice is warm and husky like dark melted chocolate fudge caramel... or something. Kylo wishes he could say it were Jar Jar, but it's not. He turns his head and his eyes meet with those of a tall, handsome man who isn't quite as tall or quite as handsome as Jar Jar, but he's cute. Tattoos cover his arms in colourful sleeves, and a tight V-neck reveal the tight curls of his chest hair below a well-groomed ginger beard/ mustache combo and a pair of Ray-Bans. _We all_ _know what_ he  _studied in college,_ Kylo internally smirks a little.

"Hey, excuse me," the barista who majored in Fine Arts says, "I said you need to leave."

Kylo is confused. "What? Why?"

"Uh, we're closing. It's 7pm."

 _Huh_ , Kylo thinks,  _I've been here for more than forty minutes._

Kylo ignores the barista and continues sipping his beverage. Mid-sip, he realises his cup is empty and probably has been for the past who-knows-how-long, but he pretends to drink because fuck you barista man.

"We're... closing?" The barista man repeats.

"I heard you," Kylo says through gritted teeth.

"I'm sorry but you-" 

With a flourish of pent-up angst and frustration and annoyance, Kylo holds the barista man up by the neck with the force of, well, the Force. "You will not ask me to leave," he tells him, half-assedly trying to stay calm.

He releases the barista man, who falls to the floor with a satisfying thump. "You will keep this place open for as long as I like," Kylo says.

"I will not ask you to leave; I will keep this place open for as long as you like," Barista Man reiterates quickly, his entire body convulsing violently (it was actually just mild shaking but Kylo  ~~is delusional~~ likes to exaggerate). 

So for the next hours, Kylo sits in the same booth, chain-drinking free hot chocolate he orders Barista Man to make. 

* * *

 

He still hasn't come. It's almost midnight.  _Jar Jar, where the fuck are you?_ Kylo tries to call him on his cellphone, because it's late night and he needs his love, but (you know when that) Jar Jar (Binks) doesn't pick up. 

Kylo leaves a message: "Jar Jar, it's Kylo, I really need you, call me back when you can."

A millions reasons why Jar Jar isn't here run through his head. He feels empty and cold like an echo in an abandoned warehouse, but, at the same time, the thoughts buzz like a swarm of malaria-giving mosquitoes in his brain. It's too quiet and too loud all at once. 

Seconds pass so slowly it's as if time does not move at all. Each dreaded tick of the clock is another reminder of the absence of the love of Kylo's life. For a moment, his mind wanders and thinks about all the calories the hot chocolate contains but then reassured himself he can treat himself every once in a heartbreak before returning his thoughts to the handsome Gungan.

* * *

 

 

Just as Kylo is about to lose hope, a decadent, sultry voice shatters the anxious tension around him.

"Heyo dalee," it says softly.

Kylo slowly turns, his eyelids fluttering gently with the weight of slumber (even many a hot chocolates, i.e. Starbucks is a fucking rip-off, fucking capitalist pigs, and fuck you, Hux, Kylo Ren doesn't give a fuck about Hitler's opinions regarding communism).

"Hey, Jar Jar," he replies, also softly. 

"Mesa so sorry," the Gungan whispers.

In a moment of passion, Jar Jar drops his luggage and runs toward Kylo. His hands are on either side of his black-haired head as his luscious lips envelope Kylo's not-as-luscious and quite anemic ones. Just like their first kiss, Kylo feels this contact of raw electricity easing him from the heaviness of the galaxy on his tired shoulders. 

Kylo knows the world is a broken bone, but with Jar Jar in it, he can melt his headaches and call it home.


	8. Deep Space Exploration

After a steamy thirty minutes of making out, Kylo decides to take Jar Jar home. His stupid-ass parents are probably looking for him, and they'll probably be mad when they see the Gungan, but Kylo doesn't give a shit. Fuck you, Mom. Fuck you, Dad.

"Come home with me," Kylo whispers hotly. He feels his hair stick to his skin with the syrupy condensation of his and Jar Jar's insatiable passion for each other.

Jar Jar pauses for a moment. "Won't yous parents be mad?" He asks. "It's past midnight."

"I know," Kylo replies, his jaw clenching in sync with his almost non-existent ass cheeks as he struggles to hold back a violent release of humanly gases. "I don't care."

"Okeeday, then."

Kylo takes his lover's hand and leads him out of the coffee shop. Before they exit, he remembers Barista Man (whose eyes are now incredibly bloodshot, and because of that, Kylo respects him a little. Kylo's bedtime is usually nine thirty although he tells everybody he doesn't sleep.), and haphazardly wipes his memory. His uncle had warned him about using his powers: "Don't force choke people, blah blah, memory wipes are bad or something, blah, Dark Side, blah blah blah." But Luke Skywalker is an irrelevant loser old man, like his sister (except the part about being an old man).

As the couple walks in the cool night air, Kylo is glad Jar Jar can't see him blushing as he thinks about all the things that could happen once they reach his home. He feels tipsy thinking about losing his Virginity™ to the handsome amphibian.

They near his house, and Ben-sorry, _Kylo_ - sees all of their lights are off. Good. Just as he thought, his parents aren't home and probably out looking for him. 

Because his parents aren't home, Kylo makes no effort to unlock the door quietly. It opens with a forceful slam into the doorstop and Kylo begins to make out with Jar Jar once again. 

But to his surprise, he feels a weapon on his back.  _Fuck._ They  _are_ home. Han Solo holds his fucking n00b blaster pistol to Kylo's fed-up (and soft and shitty) body before realising who it is.

"Ben?" He says, lowering his weapon. "What, I thought you were home?"

 _What the fuck._   _My own fucking parents didn't realise I wasn't home. Past midnight. Fuck my life. Am I even theirs? What the fuck? I bet if it were my stupid fucking uncle they would be everywhere looking for him right now. Fuck you._

"Who's this?" Han points to Jar Jar with his chin.

Kylo looks at Jar Jar, who looks at Kylo, who looks at Jar Jar. Finally, he sighs says, "He's my boyfriend."

His father doesn't say anything. Instead, he just stares. At Kylo and at Jar Jar. For many minutes. Until, suddenly, he calls, "Leia, you gotta come down."

Leia, half asleep, clumsily descends the stairs muttering incredibly loudly but unintelligibly. When she sees Jar Jar, she freezes. All of a sudden, she is as awake as she has ever been in her life. "Who's this?"

"That's exactly what I asked," Han replies. "Ben says he's his boyfriend."

"What in the galaxy- Wait, Ben, you've been out all this time?" Leia asks in disbelief.

"Yeah."

Kylo expects her mother to loser her fucking goddamn mind over this. But, instead, she just leaves the room without saying a word. 

* * *

 

The three men stand there, Han eyeing Jar Jar with his arms crossed while simultaneously giving Kylo disapproving looks. Honestly, what's up with all this judgment? It's not like your vest isn't fucking atrocious,  _Dad_. Just get an aneurysm or something already, old man. 

After a while, Kylo decides he can't take it anymore. "Can I go?" He asks, but not really, because he's going to go either way.

Han nods his head. "Good talk." He sighs and heads toward the stairs.

Kylo is perplexed.  _What the fuck. They never let me off this easily. What the actual fuck. Am I being disowned. What the fuck. It hurts when you care but it hurts more when you don't._ But it doesn't matter. That much. 

Kylo brushes the intrusive thoughts aside and turns to Jar Jar. He gazes into his warm, wise eyes and places his pale bitch hands behind Jar Jar's muscular neck. He gives the Gungan a quick peck on his luscious lips before winking cheekily and taking Jar Jar's hand. He leads him up the stairs, the handsome hunk muttering in confusion behind him.  _Me and you both,_ Kylo thinks, _me and you both._

But it's all okay when they reach Kylo's bedroom. Everything is just the right amount of still, of quiet, of longing. Before Jar Jar can unpack his bags, hang up his business suit he carries just in case, lay out his toiletries, exfoliate his feet, and read the latest issue of  _Women's Day_ magazine, Kylo pushes him onto his bed. Jar Jar is bewildered for a moment that is quickly gone when he realises Kylo is on top of him, his watery legs straddling Jar Jar's toned lap. Firmly yet gently, the pair begin making out. Kylo let himself explore every single crevice of Jar Jar's mouth, his tongue lapping up his delicious Gungan saliva like a thirsty-ass cat. Jar Jar's kisses in return are wet and passionate, and far more experienced than Kylo, who looks like a goldfish trying to swallow another goldfish. 

One thing led to another, and before they know it, they were both fully undressed. Kylo's breathing is heavy with arousal, his eyes hungrily devouring Jar Jar's bare, glistening washboard abs.  _God, he's perfect._ _He even has that 'V'._ As his eyes travel down the Gungan's torso, Kylo pauses unexpectedly, and his breath catches in his throat. Ever since he'd met Jar Jar, the thing he desired most was for this moment, his daydreams dominated by pure lust. But now, he wonders if he just needed to get a Fleshlight. Maybe he's making a big mistake. 

Concerned, Jar Jar asks Kylo what's wrong.

"Nothing," he replies, shaking his head. He takes a deep breath before daring himself to look further. 

Between the two slants of Jar Jar's 'V', his  **m a n h o o d** rests. Oh my GOD. Wow, Jesus  _fuck._ Kylo can't believe it, his eyes are almost popping out of their sockets, his jaw cramping from dropping so low. It's so...  _small._ It's, like, one inch.  _Max._ Does the man of Kylo's dreams have a fucking  _micropenis?_ There's nothing wrong with having a micropenis, but,  _I don't know, I expected_ more _._

Afraid to hurt Jar Jar's feelings, Kylo scoops out an excessive amount of Vaseline and slathers it onto Jar Jar's wiener. He turns around, positioning himself so his lover can lie back and relax while he does all the work. Maybe this will empower him enough to become a Sith lord. 

Slowly but steadily, Kylo lowers himself onto Jar Jar's throbbing tiny member. As their bodies warm up to one another, he moves his backside faster and faster.

He never thought he would say this, not with Jar Jar tonight anyway, but Kylo grunts (rather pathetically might I add): "I'm so close!"

Behind him, Jar Jar yelps and 'mmm's in approval, his breathing becoming more and more shallow, in rhythm with Kylo's. "Mesa about to come!" He announces.

"Yes, yes, yes,  _yes,_ " Kylo says rapidly. He's so fucking close. But his legs are also getting really fucking tired. 

With one last forceful slam, Kylo feels his body descend into another dimension. "Oh,  _yeah!_! Daddy!" He screams. 

Jar Jar spanks Kylo's pasty ass as he fills him with his love.

"Oh, yeah, Daddy, spank me!" Kylo pleads. "Like the absolute animal you are!" Immediately after he says that, he regrets it. What if it offends Jar Jar? He didn't mean it like that. Everyone knows Gungans are not animals. But what if he thinks Kylo is racist?  _Shit. I've fucked up this time._ But Jar Jar doesn't seem to notice.

After the two have finished their orgasmic journey, the Gungan wraps his strong arms around Kylo and they cuddle. 

All of a sudden, the Padawan feels an overwhelming emotion he knows is familiar but doesn't quite recognise. But then it hits him.

He begins to cry.

Emotion hits him like Josh Dun's arms hit his drums. He knows sex shouldn't be the ultimate way for someone to show you they love you, but Kylo can't help but feel so goddamn loved and wanted. He's not sure what to make of this situation. 

But either way, Kylo Ren just had the best night of his life.


End file.
